Classic Poem

Si r,
Tis but a while, since in a vestall flame
Barren, but bright, the Tuders royall name
Beloued expir'd, then God a Steward sent
With many Tallents, fitt for gouernment.
This patriarch did butt two sonnes begett,
Whereof one shines, the other sunne is sett.
Father and sonne did their first fruits restore
Unto the Giuer, and he gave them more,
The hopefull Charles and Mary full of grace;
And it were courtship out of time and place
To prayse them yet, till Men and Women growne
Giuing them prayse, we giue them but their owne.
Get us a Blacke prince to the white we haue,
A Henry Monmoth, and a Richard braue
As Coeur de Lion, lineally plac't
On thy throne, Charles the fearles, and the chast.
And when Greate Brittaine Males enow haue seene
To be our Kings, get each Land else a Queene
Louely, and louing, as your Machles Bride,
Misfortune-free; or else if seauen tymes try'd,
Out of that furnace may they come and shyne
Like the pure Golden Princesse Pallatine.
Meane while, what chosen vessells must they be!
That can not wish (vewing their pedigree)
An Actiue vertue, or a passiue grace,
But may be found in their owne Stocke and Race.
May euery Branch of thyne a Scepter growe,
And from thy source a Sea of Vertues flowe
Aboute the world, till Fame with outstretch't wings
Style Charles the Patterne, & the Roote of Kings.
A. T OUNSHEND .